


Murder Can Be Romantic

by Pomegrandeur



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: "what are we?", Begging, Biting, Bottom Komaeda Nagito, Dubcon Kissing, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Komaeda Nagito Being Komaeda Nagito, Komaeda Nagito Is Obsessed With Hope, Like too much drooling, M/M, Master/Servant, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Rough Oral Sex, Smut, Top Hinata Hajime, Yandere Komaeda Nagito, excessive drooling, fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28844370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomegrandeur/pseuds/Pomegrandeur
Summary: Nagito calls Hajime to the kitchen alone at midnight... surely only good things can come of that.Instead of murdering him, he just really wants to be kinky and Hajime reluctantly obliges.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 22
Kudos: 318





	Murder Can Be Romantic

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little rusty and this just to happens to be the first Danganronpa fanfic I've written. There are some repetitive parts, but I didn't feel like changing them. One draft! No editing, we die like men. Also I use both names for the characters interchangeably, sorry if that's wrong or something, idk. 
> 
> Warning for Komaeda all but forcing himself on Hinata at first.

“What do you want? It’s the middle of the night,” Hajime groans under his breath, voice cracking from sleep still in his throat. Nagito hasn’t turned to face him, but it’s not hard to tell how heavily he’s breathing. Hajime can only wait with fearful anticipation to see what has him worked into a lather this time. He slips his phone from his pocket to check it again, squinting as the light hits him in the dark kitchen. Some part of him wonders if he should message the group chat just so the others know where he is in case things go south from here. He freezes, hesitates, and doesn’t do it. Regret. 

“H-Ha...Hajime…” Komaeda pants under his breath, voice barely above a whisper. It isn’t the first time Hajime has heard him sound like this, but something about it stirs a warm feeling in him that he’s only ever felt a few times before now. He swallows thickly. 

“Yes? That doesn’t answer my question, Komaeda.” He does his best to be firm, but his tiredness prevents it, making his voice crackle again. As his hand raises to rest against the front of his throat, he finds himself surprised as Komaeda turns around. Looking down at him in the dark kitchen, his wild hair mostly hides his eyes. There’s a tiny bit of a glow to them from the shadows, wild spirals forming in them where pupils should be. The light sneaking in through a far window catches a glare on the drool escaping his lips and running down over his chin. 

Oh.

“Hajime…” he repeats again, breathlessly. His hands reach up to cup his own face on either side, breathing ragged and close enough that the heat caresses Hinata’s face. “Ohh Hajime, ahaha… y-you’re truly special, you know that? Hah… so… special.” His fingers dig into his cheeks as his hands trail down his face and neck to finally grip the collar of his shirt. It’s clear now that he isn’t all there. Hajime’s hand slowly reaches back toward the handle of the drawer behind him, knowing the knives are in there and he can pull one out should he need it. 

“Well uh, I’m flattered. Really, but you still haven’t answered my question. What did you call me here for? You said it was important.” He hopes that if he’s insistent, he will eventually make some progress. 

“Oh Hajime… the way that you rally everyone together is just like a leader, isn’t it? And they all look up to you. We all do. You do so much for us.” He rambles, still panting and drooling, a crooked grin on his face in the dark. Despite the circumstance, Hajime can’t help but feel redness creeping onto his face. Compliments always fluster him. 

“C-come on, that’s not that big of a deal. Anyone could do that. And after all, I feel that you all need me after everything that’s happened. It’s the least I can d--” he’s cut off by the sound of hands slamming down on the countertop behind him. Suddenly, Nagito is standing directly over him, face mere inches from his own. His heart skips a beat, flinching and realizing he’s too late to grab a weapon to defend himself. “K-Komaeda!?” 

“You’re so selfless, Hajime. Don’t you think you deserve some praise? Some gratitude?” Now his breath washes over Hinata’s face, his arms brushed up against the other’s. Their waists touch, their eyes are locked together. 

“Komaeda, I don’t do it for praise. I do it because I care.” He’s exasperated, but the tiredness in his voice is now masked with a blanket of quiet fear. They are in the kitchen at midnight, surrounded by weapons, with no one else awake, and Komaeda has gone off the deep end. He hopes his answer suffices.

“I know. All the more reason I think I should reward you. It’s what you deserve. Ahaha… mmmmnh, you’re so… hahaha humble! Despite everything. Oh please, Hajime, please let me praise you?” His voice is a solid mix of wild energy and subtle submission. When he licks his lips in the dark, the sound is the only thing that alerts Hinata of it, his eyes barely registering the figure so close to him in the blackness. 

“What?” That’s all he can say before he feels warm hands against his wrists. Before he has time to question it, he feels an immense, wet heat on his mouth. Komaeda has closed the gap between them, stealing a somewhat forceful and sloppy kiss. Hajime barely has time to register it at first before he finds himself melting into it. Oh no. 

The hands around his wrists hesitantly let go. Making tiny squeaks of resistance as he drags his fingers over the smooth surface of the countertop, soon they rest on Hajime’s hips. He lets out a shaky gasp, finally placing a hand on Nagito’s shoulder and pushing him back just a step, creating a few inches of space between them again. 

“Hey, Komaeda!” He’s forceful now, the sound getting Nagito’s attention and melting his insides like butter. He likes when Hajime is forceful. 

“Yes, Hajime?” There’s desperation practically dripping from his shaky, needy voice. The way he says his name makes Hajime shudder, warmth filling his body beyond the blush on his face and ears. 

“Please slow down. I… I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Let’s take a step back, a couple of deep breaths, and go from there, okay?” He hopes the room gives Komaeda a chance to calm down, but his breathing only grows more rapidly. He reluctantly releases Hajime’s waist.

“Yes, of course. Anything you want. I’m so sorry I acted so rashly, Hajime. What was I thinking? Filth like me getting to touch someone like you should be a privilege. I--” 

“No, stop. It’s not like that. Come on, you don’t need to degrade yourself.” 

“I’m not. It’s simply the honest truth. I don’t deserve to be in your presence, let alone touching you without permission. No… I want nothing more than to please you, Hajime. You fill me with so much hope, hah...haha… to repay you, you can use me however you want.” Hajime can all but feel Nagito’s hands hovering over him, hesitating to touch him, but he can only barely see their outline from the dim light from across the room. He sighs and hesitates, but finds himself becoming equally warm and flustered. Maybe this is what Komaeda needs to feel better? Maybe this will help him? Not to mention, the way he’s whispering about wanting to please him is incredibly hot.

“Come over here. I want to at least be able to see your face.” Hajime’s resolve crumbles as he takes Nagito by his wrist and pulls him over toward the window, light getting brighter and brighter as they both approach it. He trembles and stutters in his grip, but readily goes along with him and lets himself be pulled. 

“You do? I… I chose this place because it was dark enough y-you wouldn’t have to look at me and think about how disgusting I am. I promise I’m just as happy serving you in the dark, you don’t have t--” he’s cut off by Hajime putting his hand over his mouth, the other tugging his wrist toward him with a bit of force. Oh how he melts. Hajime is trying not to be turned off by the wetness of his drool against his palm. 

“Stop that. Enough! For someone who claims to be so lowly, you sure do assume my intentions a lot, don’t you?” He’s more harsh than he intends to be, but he’s just tired enough that he doesn’t care. 

“S-sorry…” Komaeda mumbles against his fingers, eyes wide and fixed on him as they’re both bathed in the glow of the lamp outside the kitchen window. With Hinata’s back to it, it’s still hard to see his face. 

“No. Stop apologizing. Shut up.” As soon as the words leave his lips in a hushed snarl, he feels guilty for being so aggressive and softens. As he calms, he lets go of Komaeda’s mouth to trail his hand along his chin and cup his cheek, fingers around his ear and hair. He can feel his blushing, even if the light of the room doesn’t allow him to see it. “It’s okay, really. If you really want to do something for me… if you want to please me then the first thing you can do is stop degrading yourself constantly.” 

“But… H-Hajime… I’m not degrading my--” he’s stopped again with a tight squeeze on his wrist and a sharp hiss. 

“Stop. You want to do as I say, right? Isn’t that what you said before?” Hinata raises a brow, tipping his head to the side. Komaeda swallows thickly. 

“Yessir. Yes, please, Hajime… anything for you, anything at all.” He leans heavily against the hand on his cheek, eyes half-lidded and all but glowing as he looks down over him. Hajime has to stop for a moment to admire just how pretty he is. Damn.

“Shhh, good. Then the first thing you can do is say a single nice thing about yourself, alright? Anything. Doesn’t matter how small, but it has to be genuine. Go on, I’ll wait.” Hajime hopes this works… either way, he doesn’t want to admit how strangely appealing this is. Maybe he likes having power and control like this? Something deep in him is stirring, but he pays it no mind. 

“What? Something nice? Like what?” Suddenly Nagito is flustered for real. Gone is his sultry smile and knowing gaze, replaced by wide eyes and trembling lips. Hajime finds himself hopelessly endeared, thumb brushing over his lips as he holds his face there. 

“You have to come up with it. Come on, you said you wanted to please me, right? Then do it. Please me.” He’s definitely into this. Luckily for him, Komaeda very clearly is, too. 

“Um… I-I uh… well…” he’s hesitating, “...I guess people have said I have nice eyes.” He’s trembling, lips pursed. This is more difficult than he’d imagined. 

“Yeah? Do you think you have nice eyes?” 

“N-no.” As he replies, he tucks his chin down, eyes looking anywhere but Hinata’s face. He knows that isn’t the answer that he wanted. Instead of harshness or pain, he is rewarded with waiting silence. It’s deafening. 

“Well? It has to be something you like about yourself.” Hajime finally breaks the tense silence when he realizes Komaeda isn’t going to say anything else. The tension only grows. 

“But… H-Hajime, I’m so sorry… I can’t think of anything I like about myself. I-- ah, this… admittedly wasn’t what I had in mind. I’m sorry, you must think I’m so annoying and pathetic. I--” and again, he’s cut off, this time by a second hand on his face, thumb over his lips to shush him. 

“Hush up. Stop apologizing so much. If you can’t think of anything, then I want you to repeat after me, alright? Can you do that?” 

“O-oh, um… yes! Anything for you, Hajime.” He’s leaning heavily into the warm hands against his face, lips trembling. 

“Good. I want you to say ‘I am worthy of love and there are people here who love me.’ Can you say that?” Hajime tips his head, eyes so fixed on Nagito’s face that he almost worries he’ll bore a hole through him. There’s clear hesitation.

“I-I’m… worthy of… love… a-and there are people here… who… who love me.” He repeats shyly, eyes not leaving the spot where they’re fixed on the floor. Beneath Hajime’s fingers and palms, he feels his cheeks burn. A smile crosses his own lips as he pulls him in close. 

“Good boy,” he coos as he steals a kiss from the corner of his mouth. 

To be kissed by Hajime… Nagito’s knees wobble and he melts against him like ice cream in summer heat. He’s so weak for him; his touch, his affection, his praise. He makes the tiniest exasperated sound as all the air is forced from his lungs as if those two words struck him like a truck. He’s Hajime’s good boy. 

Hajime can clearly tell just how much he liked that and struggles not to find himself enjoying how much the other enjoys it. The look on his face that he can barely see with how close they are is enough to send chills down his spine and out to his fingertips. It feels like lightning every time the two of them make contact. 

“Do you like that?” He’s doing his best to seem confident and dominant, but the truth is that he’s almost as needy and weak as Komaeda is. 

“Yes… a lot. Y-you can use me however you want to…” he hums as he closes the gap between their bodies once more, heavy breathing now even closer. 

That phrase stirs something in Hinata, too. As he looks up into Komaeda’s wide eyes, he can feel the catharsis of complete power and control wash over him. Some dark, dominant part of him awakens, he feels it in his chest and hands. His red eye casts a faint glow from the shadows where the light is at his back. 

“Is that so? Do you truly want to be an object to please me, or do you just selfishly want to feel used by me? Hm? Which is it? Your needs or mine?” He speaks almost without thinking and without thought or the restraint to stop himself. Just when he thinks maybe he was too harsh, Komaeda lets out a pathetic whimper and slowly drops to his knees in front of him. 

“I want to please you, Master.” Suddenly his tone is very different as well, as though he’s remembering this like it’s something they’ve done a thousand times. His hands grip tightly to the baggy fabric of Hinata’s sleep hands on either side of his thighs. He’s all but coming unglued under that harsh gaze, living for it. 

“Truly?” 

“Yes, yes. You can do anything you please with me and I’ll enjoy it because it’s from you. All I care about is making you happy, Master. Please let me be useful to you? The thought of making you happy fills me with hope.” He’s clearly drooling again, this time off his chin and onto the floor between both of their legs. Despite the sudden shift in attitude, Hajime is still hesitating. 

“Good boy,” he finally purrs, a single finger curling into a lock of Komaeda’s wild hair, “I’ll let you please me if the thought makes you so happy. I have one rule, though.” 

“What is it, Master? Anything for you.” 

“This is for both of us. You clearly seem to enjoy being used like this, but if you dislike something, anything, I want you to tell me. Alright?” He rests his forefinger’s first knuckle under Komaeda’s chin, forcing his gaze up toward his face. Komaeda is shivering, eyes swirling with hope and despair now rolling back into his head. 

“Yessir. I can’t imagine anything you can do to me that I won’t like, however.” He lets his mouth fall open wide, tongue hanging loosely over his teeth as he drools onto the floor some more. Hinata can’t help but find just how hot he is for this at least somewhat arousing, even if he’s hesitating still. 

“G-good. Hmm…” Hinata struggles to know what to do. Some part of him wonders if he tells him something vague if he’ll fill in the blanks himself and do something he’s already imagining doing to him anyway. Still, he doesn’t want to show just how inexperienced he is. He awkwardly takes a handful of messy white hair between his fingers and gives an exploratory tug back. He’s rewarded with a low, heavy moan. So, he likes that.

Hinata struggles with himself, unsure of just how far he’s allowed to go despite Komaeda’s eyes all but serving as green lights in the darkness telling him to go. Even if he knows for a fact that he can do anything and everything to him and he’ll likely thank him for it, he doesn’t want to feel greedy or selfish. Eventually, the tension in his boxers outweighs his politeness. With his fingers still locked around that coif of pale hair, he drags his face in toward his somewhat obvious erection. 

With nothing but baggy sleep pants and boxers to conceal it, his arousal is painfully obvious. Despite feeling awkward about hesitantly grinding it against Komaeda’s eager face, the man on his knees before him seems more than thrilled by the attention. He squints and closes his eyes as his head is pressed against the fabric, clearly enjoying that Hajime is seeking gratification in what he feels is such a demeaning way. That’s right, he’s not good enough to put his mouth on him, he’s only good for being rubbed on; no better than Hinata’s mattress. 

After being rewarded with another low, shaky moan, Hinata clearly realizes that this is more than okay. He’s still shy, but decides to pull back long enough to line up Komaeda’s face with his crotch. With both hands atop his head, he shifts and grunts quietly. 

“M-make yourself useful a-and take them off.” He tries to be forceful, but his awkwardness and hesitation are back in full force. Komaeda won’t admit it in the heat of the moment, but he can’t help but find it endearing. 

“Yes, Master,” he replies breathlessly, fingers reaching up to hook the edge of his pants and boxers beneath. What little Hajime can see of his face is awash with mindless obedience. Hajime is struggling with just how much he’s already enjoying this. 

Long, narrow fingers slowly tug the clothing off Hajime’s trembling body. Despite the one on his knees drooling and panting, Hinata is the one who’s shaking. He’s never done anything quite like this before. Once he’s exposed to the air, he gasps at how cold it feels compared to the heat trapped with him under his clothes. He’s too shy to look at himself, now half naked in front of someone he was terrified of only a few minutes ago. Some part of him wonders if the fear is part of what has him so turned on. 

“Do you want me to use my mouth, Master?” Komaeda feigns shyness as he asks, not wanting to reveal just how eager he is to get his mouth on him if he’s allowed. Were Hajime to be looking down, he’d see it clearly for himself, anyway. He’s panting and drooling, his hot breath compensating for what was cold air only moments ago. 

“Y-yeah.” He hates the way he stutters, his face burning with embarrassment as both of his hands rest on either side of the top of his servant’s head. Before he can utter another command, he’s already enveloped by a sweet, wet heat all the way to his hilt. Without hesitation, Komaeda has buried his length all the way into his throat, lips hitting the base. The sudden change causes Hajime to let out a loud, undignified noise, immediately clasping a hand over his mouth milliseconds after. 

Komaeda takes that sound as reassurance that he’s doing a good job. Almost gently, he pulls back, allowing his lips and tongue to make slick friction all the way from base to tip. Before he reaches the end, he pauses and uses his tongue to swirl around the sensitive head before plunging back down onto him. He doesn’t have any problem taking him into his throat and Hajime has to wonder if he’s done this before. 

“A-ahh… K-Komaeda, you’re… way too good at that. You’re suspiciously good at it.” Hajime’s fingers instinctively curl into his hair for leverage as he continues to let him glide up and down his sensitive length. The praise is music to Komaeda’s ears, eyes glancing up to look Hajime in the eyes with his cock still down his throat. The other steals a quick glance and immediately regrets it as it sends a shockwave through his whole body, rocking him to his core. Those eyes are beautiful, but haunting; they do something to him that he can’t describe.

Not wanting to stop until he’s told to, Komaeda continues his work. Despite thin lips and gaunt features, he’s still able to draw beautiful, stifled little moans from his beloved master. The sounds of Hajime’s pleasure fill him with a sense of pride he’d forgotten he could still feel. Drinking in each needy sound like sweet wine, he moves harder and faster as if trying to squeeze out more. 

“Ah! Ahn, K-Kom...maeda… I’m-- I’m going to… to…” Hajime stutters and moans, hands now guiding his little servant’s head up and down his cock, facefucking him in earnest. Nagito is soaring, unable to process that this is really happening, himself. Sure, he’s dreamed of this scenario plenty of times before, but to have it happening for real fills him with an indescribable feeling. He wonders if this is what true hope feels like. 

Humming, purring, and moaning around Hajime’s arousal, Nagito eagerly awaits his reward for all his hard work. With his eyes cast up at his master’s pleased face, and with the tension of his hair being used like handles, he’s overwhelmed with the rush of adrenaline he feels while waiting for Hajime’s climax. His rolled back, half-lidded eyes are proof enough that he’s thoroughly enjoying this, himself. Despite his painful arousal, he refuses to touch himself yet… not without permission. 

Unable to sustain himself with the sweet, hot, wet friction around his aching arousal, Hajime’s grip on Komaeda’s hair tightens and he buries himself as deeply into his throat as he can. The tinge of salty precum hits Komaeda’s tongue and he knows what comes next. He does his best to smile up at him as he feels him release down his throat. Oh, what sweet bliss. He’s gagging, eyes rolled back and tears escaping from the corners of his eyes as his master chokes him on his cock and spills his cum into his belly. This is everything he’s wanted for so long and more.  
“A-ah… f-fu-- sh...shhh-- mmmnh, K-Komaeda… I… wow…” Hinata is still in bliss, senses having not fully returned to him yet as he carefully pulls out of his eager servant’s mouth with a soft, wet pop. Panting, Komaeda wipes off his mouth on his sleeve, taking the opportunity to swallow to clear his throat.

“D-did it feel good?” Of course, the first words out of his mouth once it’s freed are more concerned for his partner than himself. Hinata’s knees wobble and as soon as he pulls his clothes back on, he’s already sunk down to the floor, his back against the cupboards under the counter he was just leaning on. 

“Of course.” Hajime still hasn’t fully returned to reality, but he has enough sense to answer him, at least. Finally, after a few more seconds of panting and regaining his senses, he reaches out a hand to cup Nagito’s cheek again. “What about you?” 

“Hm? What? Me?” Komaeda seems genuinely surprised he would even ask. 

“Yes, you. Didn’t I say this was for both of us? Don’t think that just because I’ve finished that I’ve forgotten about you.” He rubs his thumb over his cheek, feeling the skin beneath his touch heat up suddenly. 

“I… I could never ask Master to touch filth like me--” 

“Hey. What did I tell you about talking like that? And sure, I was ‘Master’ earlier, but I’m just Hajime, now. I’m not your master right now, I’m your--” he stops. He hadn’t actually thought about what this makes them to one another. Komaeda can sense his hesitation and decides to break the silence so he doesn’t have to. 

“I did this because I wanted to please you. I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for all of us. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” Suddenly, he drops the needy servant act. Hajime lets out a small, audible gasp when he feels Nagito’s smooth, robotic hand rest over his own where he holds his face. His point is made loud and clear. 

“You know, a standard thank you is usually a card or flowers or something.” Hajime glances away shyly, relishing the other’s touch in return. He’s startled by how such a simple little gesture can bring him so much joy. 

“Do you want flowers? Do you want a card? I can get them for you, if you’d like--” he’s cut off before he can spiral off into things he can do for him again. Hinata’s eyes are serious, for once the green one shining just as bright as the red. 

“No, I don’t want those things. I want you to be happy.” He’s blunt, but his point remains warm. The silence only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like hours. 

“You… want me… to be happy?” Komaeda’s voice is uncharacteristically small. If Hajime didn’t know any better, he’d guess he was shy. Of course, that’s silly. Komaeda doesn’t get shy… does he?

“Of course I do. You’re one of us, too. We’re all here together to try and recover from everything, right? I want you to recover, too. You deserve to be happy, Komaeda.” As he speaks, Hajime rubs his thumb over his cheek again. He feels the grip on his hand tighten ever so slightly. 

“Okay.” The response that he gets isn’t the one Hinata is expecting. 

“Okay? Okay, what?” He’s cautiously optimistic about what Nagito will say next, praying it isn’t weird and self deprecating. 

“I don’t think anyone has ever been so kind to me, Hajime. You really are amazing, you know? Even after everything that happened, even after I caused so much grief and pain for everyone else, you never lost sight of hope, did you?” 

“Wait-- what?” Oh no, the H-word. Every ounce of Hajime’s optimism leaves him in an instant, but he’s suddenly reassured by a hand against his cheek. Warm, tender, Nagito is returning his gesture. He’s left speechless. 

“Your hope that I would come around… that I could be more than just pitiful trash…it never faltered. You’ve felt this way the whole time, haven’t you?” Suddenly the tension in the air turns emotional. Hajime feels hot tears on his thumb, but he wipes them away with the tenderness and affection of a lover.

“I suppose that’s just the kind of person I am. Of course I wanted to believe in you. I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back… when you found out I was just a reserve course student, you must have felt pretty betrayed, right? I mean, you dedicated yourself to me and the others pretty diligently, only to find out that we weren’t who you thought we were.” Hajime almost can’t believe he’s spilling his guts here like this when the smell of sex still lingers in the air. He silently wonders if Nagito is still aroused, but doesn’t want to interrupt this rare, tender moment.

“H-Hajime… Even after I hurt you… after I hurt everyone… you never let go of your hope, huh? That’s… that’s incredible. You’re incredible. You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met.” Between meek sobs and sniffles, it’s clear he’s going off the rails just a little. His breathing is ragged and his eyes wild. Hajime is too touched by his compliments to care.

“Yeah. I guess I did. Hey, hey… shhh, don’t cry. I-- come on, Komaeda, please don’t cry. What about before? Hm? How about we go back to that?” He pleads internally that a switch back to getting hot and heavy will end the awkward crying. He isn’t equipped to handle that in his current state. 

“S-sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize.” 

“Right… yeah.” Komaeda wipes his eyes with his arm, sniffling and returning to his former demeanor. Pleading eyes stare intensely at Hajime’s face, brows turned up. Even though his eyes are puffy from shedding tears, they’re still wild and appear almost unhinged. He’s already beaming again. Unsettling, just how Hajime likes him.

“I believe it’s your turn, isn’t it?” He continues to cup Nagito’s face, squishing his cheeks together and chuckling as his thin face is squashed. He’s unbothered by this, happy for Hajime to be touching him at all. Still, there’s something on his mind. 

“My turn? For what?” 

“To be pleased.” 

“Wh-what? No. Nonono, no, I don’t need anything.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t want you to have to touch me.” 

“Why? I don’t mind.” 

“I would feel guilty.” He finally admits, gaze casting away. Hajime has to take a moment to process that and let it sink in. He feels guilty?

“You feel guilty? Why? It’s alright, I’m offering. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to. It’s not like you’re forcing me. It’s fine.” He lets his hands fall off of him, wondering if giving him a little space will help. It has the opposite effect, Nagito immediately missing the warmth of his hands on him and putting on a face that resembles a kicked puppy. Whoops. He tries to save it by taking his hands in his instead. 

“Because I don’t feel like I deserve it.” 

“You do. I said so.” Hajime is his usual blunt self, earning a tiny smile from Nagito. 

“You did, huh? Well… I suppose if we go by that logic, I can’t really argue can I?” He lifts his robotic hand from Hajime’s to hold his chin to feign deep thought. Both boys chuckle at how silly it all feels amid the emotions and sexual tension filling every corner of the room. The lighthearted laughter is deeply cathartic. 

“Come here.” Hajime beckons Nagito closer. He does as he’s asked scooting closer, though it’s clear by the look on his face that he’s unsure what’s wanted of him. Hajime can see this and pats the space between his thighs as if to signal him to sit. He does so, but Hajime turns him around so his back is against his chest. Both strong arms wrap around Nagito’s waist, leaving him feeling breathless to be in such a warm embrace. It’s foreign, but not unpleasant. 

“Hajime?” 

“Relax.” Suddenly his commands seem much more confident than they were earlier. Nagito isn’t about to complain, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. His shoulders and posture loosen and he scoots down to compensate for their slight difference in height. Hajime rests his chin over Nagito’s shoulder and decides to let his hands explore over his clothed body. 

Nagito immediately tenses again. 

“Are you alright?” Hajime stops the moment he senses something is amiss. 

“Wh-what? Yes, of course. Do anything you please.” 

“Be honest. Are you alright? It’s not about doing what I please with you, it’s about making sure you feel safe and comfortable and enjoy yourself.” 

The tension in the air is palpable as silence surrounds them like a heavy blanket in the dark. Hajime remains patient and waits for Nagito to speak. 

“I don’t feel like I deserve this.” After what seems like an eternity, he finally admits it. Hajime nods silently in the dark, having figured that was the case. 

“I know, it’s alright. You do deserve this. You deserve to feel good sometimes. Relax, breathe, don’t focus on that right now. Focus on what you feel.” 

“Focus on what I feel?” 

“Yes. What do you feel right now?” As he speaks, Hajime trails a hand up under the hem of Nagito’s shirt, fingers running along his body and feeling over every little curve and detail all the way up to his chest. 

“I feel… your hand on me.” He’s fighting the urge to shudder at being touched by Hajime like this. He does his best to stay calm, breathing deeply in and out again. 

“How does it feel?” 

“It feels… good. I’ve always wanted you to touch me like this. It almost feels too good to be true now that it’s finally happening.” He chuckles awkwardly, then gasps as he feels lips on his neck. 

“What about now?” Hajime breathes the question over his ear, trailing little kisses back down to his shoulder after. More shudders and chills. 

“Y-your l-lips on m-me…” he stutters, a hand reaching up to cover his mouth as he trembles in his arms. 

“And? Is it alright?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes I’m sure. Sorry--” 

“Don’t apologize.” Hajime interrupts him before he can apologize fully, his tone flat and stern, but not harsh. Nagito shudders again. 

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“Good. Instead, how about you tell me what you want next?” 

“I’m happy with anything you want to do with me, Hajime.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“I-I know…” Nagito is struggling with this and Hajime can sense his hesitation. He’s already pushed him far outside his comfort zone for tonight and wonders if taking the reins fully is the best thing he can do for him for now. 

“Alright. I’m going to touch you, is that alright?” 

“Yes!” Nagito suddenly blurts out as if he’d been waiting for those words, “please.” 

Following through, Hajime rubs at Nagito’s bony hip with one hand, feeling the skin taut over his narrow frame. He can’t help but notice how thin he is and wonders if he’s been eating. Likely not, but he pushes the thought from his mind to focus on the task at hand. His fingers carefully work their way under the hem of his pants, palm resting between his pants and his boxers. Gently palming him through the thin fabric, he nips at his neck and purrs in his ear. 

“You know, I can’t lie… I think you’re cute when you’re like this. Heh, is that bad of me?” 

“No, I-I like it.” He’s all but coming unglued again under his touch, struggling between thoughts of doubt and guilt versus the immense joy and pleasure he experiences from being touched by someone he thinks so highly of. The conflict causes those spirals in his eyes to return. As if to snap him out of it, Hajime nips at his neck again. 

“Good.” Internally, Hajime is startled by this sudden rush of confidence. How is he not stuttering and screwing this up like he normally would? Is it something about Nagito? He continues to rub his palm over the underside of his evident erection, feeling the friction and savoring every little twitch and whine the other makes. “I like it, too.”

Deciding that’s enough teasing, he lifts his hand away. Nagito is about to assume he’s done with him, unable to stand him anymore, but is pleasantly surprised when that warm hand slips under the hem of his boxers. Thick fingers drag up along the underside of his shaft, earning squeaks and whimpers that sound like music to Hajime’s ears. He’s let go of his inhibitions and is relishing the feeling of knowing how much Nagito enjoys this. 

“I didn’t think about the fact that my hand is dry. Hah, guess I got a little ahead of myself in the excitement.” Hajime rests his chin over his shoulder again, sliding his hand out. To remedy the struggle of sliding his hand under the hem again, he simply tugs his garments down. The cold air against his hot skin is enough to make Nagito shiver. 

With his partner’s lower half now exposed, Hajime brings his hand up toward his face, sliding a finger along the little trail of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth. 

“You know, all that drool has to come from somewhere, right? How about you get my hand nice and wet for me?” Hajime is repeating things he’s heard elsewhere now and hoping it doesn’t sound weird or lame. He expects for Nagito to snap out of his trance at any moment and laugh at him for saying such things, but that moment never arrives. Instead, his back is arched, shoulders pressed firmly into Hajime’s chest and mouth hanging open, tongue out. 

Obediently, he takes the hand before him with both of his and drags his tongue up along the palm. Losing sight of more pressing matters, after a few wet licks, he takes his fingers between his lips and all but shoves them into his mouth and throat. Hajime’s breath hitches, having not expected him to do that. The warm, wet insides of his mouth are distracting, flashing him back to when he was buried in his throat earlier. He shudders and lets him continue until he’s satisfied. After he’s done, Hajime’s hand is all but dripping wet, drool coating Nagito’s chin. His tongue still hangs out, but he’s released his hand. 

“Good boy,” Hajime purrs into his ear once more, reaching down to touch him again. With his hand liberally coated with spit, it’s slick against the other’s skin. Nagito lets out a gentle whine as the air leaves the wetness cold, but it warms quickly with friction and the heat of his body. Hajime almost can’t believe how hot this is, watching him arch his back, mouth open and panting for more. 

Biting down on his shoulder, he strokes him faster. The sharp pain of his teeth on him earns a loud gasp followed by a shaky, desperate moan. 

“H-Ha...j-jim...me…” Nagito can barely get his name to pass his lips, pouring over them like the drool wetting the chest of his shirt. He’s so lost in throes of pain and pleasure that he forgets any of his concerns. This is the best he’s ever felt. “P-please bite me more…”

Hajime is pleased to get an actual request and happily obliges. Sinking his teeth into his flesh again, he bites down even harder than before. The skin just above his shirt collar is already beginning to bruise. Instead of concern, the only thing Hajime feels is a sense of pride at earning another low, shaky moan. 

“P-please hurt m-me…” Nagito begs, eyes rolled back and mouth wide open. “Please… ah-ahh… I want your m-marks on me. Ah! I want… e-everyone to know wh-who… I belong to.” 

Ordinarily his masochistic request would be denied, but this time Hajime can clearly see what it’s doing for him as he unravels in his hands like yarn. Without restraint, he sinks his teeth into the tender skin between his neck and shoulder again, feeling the skin crunch between them. He would be worried if it didn’t draw a loud, pathetic sound from his prey’s lips. Carrying on, he uses his free hand to rake his nails up over his ribcage. Raised, red ridges form in their wake. 

“Harder!” Nagito is a mess against his chest, begging him for more. The bruises forming along his neck and shoulder ache and throb with each beat of his heart, pushing him closer and close to the edge. Hajime obliges again, lost in his own appreciation for the work of art in his hands. This time, his nails rend through bits of his flesh, drawing bright, red beads of blood to the surface. Before he can express his concern, Nagito suddenly tenses and cries out. 

It seems that last scratch was enough to send him careening over the edge into orgasm. His eyes are rolled back, a wild smile plastered across his face as he makes a mess over his navel and Hajime’s fingers. After several more pumps, he finally begins to settle, eyes coming back into focus and staring up at Hajime over him. His cheeks immediately flush hot pink. 

“I-I’m sorry… I--” but before he can apologize, a pair of cum-soaked fingers invade his mouth and his tongue. He moans around them and eagerly uses his tongue to lick them clean, eyes still fixed on Hajime. 

“Don’t apologize. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to.” 

“B-but I… I made a mess a-and th-the noises I made w-were so lewd, I wouldn’t be surprised if it made you ill just to--” The fingers go back in his mouth, shutting him up. 

“Shush. No more self-loathing. If anything, I’m sorry about the marks. Um, the bite marks are already starting to bruise and I drew blood on your chest. Hah… I suppose I got a little too into it.” He slips his fingers back out of his mouth to let him reply, but waits in case he needs to silence him again. 

“God, I know… it was amazing…” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Didn’t I say I wanted it, too? I’m going to wear them like a badge of honor, hahahaha! I want everyone to know that I belong to someone. I want them to know I’m yours.” He cackles and holds himself with both arms, rolling side to side as he’s almost entirely slid off Hajime’s chest and into his lap by this point. This is the sort of behavior that would usually make Hajime shove him away and groan in disgust, but here and now he can’t help but find it endearing. 

“Is that so? You’re mine now, huh?” Suddenly the confidence from before is leaving him and Hajime feels his cheeks heating up again. He hopes that it’s still dark enough that Nagito can’t tell, worrying that he’ll tease him.

“Of course.” 

“You promise?” Suddenly Nagito finds Hajime’s face inches from his as he leans down over him. He’s wearing a little smirk on his lips, eyes barely visible. 

“Yes! Yes, I promise!” Suddenly, his wild eyes and wicked grin are gone, replaced with a look of genuine joy. It makes Hajime’s heart flutter in his chest. Uh oh. 

“Good.” Hajime steals a little kiss on his lips, then sits up and grabs a towel off the handle of the oven nearest to him. He tosses it over Komaeda’s face playfully, then takes it carefully in-hand and begins to wipe the drool and cum off. In turn, he stares up at him, wide-eyed and in awe. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Plotting a murder-- what does it look like I’m doing?” He tries to reply with playful sarcasm, but sees a look of excitement show on Komaeda’s face. He rolls his eyes and drops the rag over him. “It was sarcasm, don’t look so excited.” 

“Aw, so you aren’t going to kill me?” 

“Wh-why do you sound so disappointed!?” He was fully expecting it and somehow still finds himself surprised. A muffled giggle comes from under the towel where it’s still covering Komaeda’s face. 

“I don’t know, sometimes I think murder can be kind of romantic.” 

“Murder? Romantic? Well, I mean… that certainly isn’t my idea of a romantic evening. What ever happened to candlelit dinners for two? Seeing a film and walking hand-in-hand in the park at night, hm?” 

“Nobody wants to do those with me, haha!” He sounds so sure of himself, fully expecting agreement that never comes. Instead, a silence falls over them both for a few agonizing seconds.

“I want to do those things with you,” Hajime finally responds, having worked up the courage to admit it. Another pause. He silently wonders if that was too much. He’s surprised when Nagito sits up and takes a moment to fix himself before he looks at him with the towel still partly hanging off his face, one eye poking out from a mess of fabric and hair. 

“You do?” 

“Yeah. Uh, is that bad? Sorry that I can’t take you out for your ideal murder-date.” Hajime looks away, finding himself wishing he could curl inward infinitely until he disappears. Suddenly, he’s enveloped in warmth. 

Komaeda leans in to steal a kiss, hand on his cheek and the towel falling off. Hajime lets his eyes slowly fall closed as he sinks pleasantly into the gesture, humming into it. They both take their sweet time, neither of them wanting to be the one to break away. It’s like an entire conversation without a single word exchanged. 

Finally, they both part, neither of them looking the other in the eyes. It’s quiet, but the silence isn’t unpleasant anymore; not when they’re together. Eventually, Hinata clears his throat and stands up, offering Komaeda his hand. His offer is accepted and he carefully pulls the other man to his feet. 

“So uh, anyway. I’m going to try to get some rest. You should do the same. Ah… see you tomorrow? I hope?” Hajime can’t look him in the eyes, but Komaeda smiles anyway.

“Yeah, I hope so, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's never specified why Komaeda called him out there to begin with. In truth, he was going to confess to him and got too worked up and anxious and that was the result.


End file.
